Loosing virginity after a movie to a stranger. He finger fucked me and made me squirt multiple times.

You know what they say about virginity. The older you get, the harder it gets to get rid of it. Is it the case for women too? I don’t know. I never really planned to remain a virgin; it just happened that way. What I mean by that is that I’m not religious, keeping myself for marriage or so on.

I could be referred to as “sexually awkward.” Guess I was also waiting for the right one—my prince, etc. I had boyfriends, and I had opportunities to lose it, especially when I was younger, but I just declined them.

Weeks became months, months became years, etc. And then I reached adulthood, finished college, started to work, and I still had never experienced sex. And after a point, I guess you just stop thinking about it. That part of you goes numb. You still get horny, but you watch videos, read stories, or use toys; the idea of having real sex never really crosses your mind.

To say that the last thing I expected to happen today was to lose my virginity would be an understatement. When I woke up this morning, I never, ever thought I would be having sex in a few hours. And to be fair, it really didn’t happen like I thought it would. It really didn’t. I expected it to be with a long-term boyfriend (I am single), a man I loved, after a long time together, etc. It was nothing like in the movies, in the books, or even how I thought it would happen in my dreams. 

I’m not going to pretend I’m attractive. Or that I’m sociable. I am neither. I’m into books, movies, comics, and video games. I don’t know much about makeup, and my kit probably has three things in it: a lipstick I use once per year, a mascara I simply don’t know how to use, and some kind of thing I can’t even describe yet.

5’5″, 110 lbs brunette, small frame, small breasts, small ass, small everything. I sometimes pass as a kid from far away. I sometimes pass as a man, too, and I’ve been brought the kids’ menu as early as the beginning of last year. My face looks youngish, not mature, and I get more than the average “this has to be a fake ID” look at bars.

I really only had one serious boyfriend. It never got that far. I did touch him and he touched me, but we stopped early. It grossed me out a bit. I felt I was too young, not ready, etc. There had really been nothing then. A kiss at a rare party, holding hands once or twice, but that was it. Yep, years of nothing.

Once again, sex was rarely, if ever, at the top of my mind. I wouldn’t say that I have a small sex drive, but I just didn’t think about it often. Few guys showed interest in me, and those who did, well, they usually didn’t call me back after a date or two. I spent most of my time focused on studying, reading, etc. One thing to note: while I do have small breasts, when I remove my bra, they are definitely visible. Round, firm 30B that I am grateful for.

Our story starts with me really, really wanting to go see Tenet. I love movies a lot; I once watched two dozen in a week, but I especially loved Nolan (and Tarantino) movies, all of them from Batman to Memento. Yes, even Superman, which I consider an underrated masterpiece (better than the garbage that the Justice League was, anyway!). Unfortunately, the virus made it a bit harder, of course, and most of my few friends, well, let’s just say movies are not at the top of their minds right now.

We can still go to movies in my country; they put three empty seats around you and have you wear a mask. However, I didn’t want to go alone. One thing about me: I am always afraid—or scared, rather, to be judged. I didn’t want to be “that” girl alone in the middle of the cinema. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I get anxiety easily. I couldn’t enjoy the movie if I went alone.

I met this guy on OkCupid a while back. He seemed fine; he is also a huge Nolan fan. We talked a few times, but nothing really happened. Today, he was on, and we chatted a bit. I confessed that I wanted to go see that movie, and he said he did too. We agreed on a short first date consisting of a quick drink at a nearby bar and then a movie.

I won’t lie; I was going into this date to see Tenet. Finally!

The drink went fine; he was kind, funny, and even paid for me. I tried to act interested, but I just couldn’t. I’m not excellent at that, and even if I was, I had other things on my mind. He did his best, and I faked interest just to support him, but it went pretty much nowhere, and our conversation was filled with odd silences. Odd even for me.

He offered to pay for my ticket, but I refused. The movie was great. About halfway through, he asked if he could put his arm around me. Hey, why not?

As I said before, I’m not the most sociable girl or the girl with the most friends. I think you get the idea. I didn’t even leave my apartment for the first month of the epidemic. And I don’t think many missed me, except maybe my mom. You get the idea. But this movie went just fine. Even though the room was almost entirely empty, I didn’t feel like a loner or a boyish girl in a corner that people could judge. In fact, with his arm around me, I could easily pass as a girl going to the movies with her boyfriend. There’s nothing more natural than a girl going to see a movie with her boyfriend. I was happy.

And this is where the story gets very silly. We walked out of the movie theater and I was feeling very good. Finally, I had seen my movie, and I loved it. I was so happy, you know? Then he said something that took me completely by surprise.

“Your place or my place?”

Of course, deep inside, I knew exactly what he meant. But at least superficially, on a conscious level, I guess I didn’t realize what was happening. Still, I should have just said “I’m fine” or “not tonight, I’m tired” or something like that. But for some reason, I replied, “Sure.” I felt as if someone else had replied for me. Again, I don’t really know what got into me; deep inside, I knew full well what he wanted. I guess I was just feeling so happy.

As we walked to my place (I live 10 minutes from the cinema, which makes the fact I hadn’t seen the movie yet even more silly), a tiny part of me worried about how I would get rid of him and what would happen, but to be truthful, it also made me a bit excited. Finally, something is happening after months of nothing happening. And it would have felt rude to just dump it there after the movie, I thought. I convinced myself it was a perfectly fine idea. Not one time on that walk did I think about sex; still, looking back at it, he was a taller, bulked-up gentleman in his early thirties, attractive by all measures, dominant, and confident.

“I can make you a mean vodka-cranberry,” I joked as we got in and I noticed my pathetically small reserve of supplies. Instead, he walked up to me and put his hands around my hips, looking me straight in the eyes. “What are you doing?” I asked nicely, more surprised than anything.

He kissed me. And soon I kissed him back as he moved his head back, forcing me to extend my neck to kiss him. I liked it. It felt great. It’s been a while since I last kissed someone. I put my hands around his waist too, and soon he lifted me into the air like I weighed nothing. He carried me, hugging and kissing me, and I put my legs around him to support my body. I’m not heavy, of course, but I felt it was nothing to him.

Then, suddenly, he dropped me gently on the floor, seemingly done and uninterested in any more kissing. “How about that vodka-cranberry?” he asked. 

“Make it double.

I was breathing hard. Sweaty a bit. Kissing him had made me feel so… alive, I guess. I did as he asked, preparing myself a double as well.

“Let’s go watch TV as we drink it,” he suggested, and we ended up in my living room, on my couch. I tried to keep up with his drinking. He proposed we watch a movie. Another? Eh, why not?

Ended up with Enola Holmes, the first one we both agreed on. Around thirty minutes in, he stood up and went to make us more drinks. I went with him, not because I was worried about him, but because I had been raised to always check your drink. Also, I had to pause the movie anyway for him. I noticed he didn’t measure the vodka he poured in and it looked like quite a lot, but how would I know? He added some extra orange juice as well, to make a strong, sweet drink.

“Hey, you know what would be great?” he said as we returned to the couch. “We should just lay on the couch; it would be a lot more comfortable than sitting.”

“Sure,” I said, and I didn’t think much of it.

“I’ll be the big spoon,” he said, as his body basically covered the entire sofa, and then some.

“Big spoon?” he said. He laughed when he realized I didn’t know what he meant. 

Then, he just looked confused that I wouldn’t know that.

“You aren’t very experienced in this dating game, are you?” he ventured. I confessed that I wasn’t. “Here, I’ll show you. Come. Come,” he repeated.

And this was probably my last chance to save my virginity, because after I accepted to lay down with him, I realized there was no backing down. He put his hand around me and carefully tugged his body against mine. After a few minutes, his hand found its way under my shirt, right on my belly, and I said nothing.

Slowly, as the minutes passed, I felt a bump growing on my ass, and I quickly understood what it was. I started to panic a bit. Once again, I could have stood up and stopped it all, but I didn’t. I guess I really wanted to see how the movie ended. I could have done it even without him, but somehow the idea didn’t cross my mind. 

“Finish the movie with him; tell him you’re tired.”

But I have to be honest: another reason I didn’t is that I was turned on. I knew what a dick was, of course, but hadn’t even seen one in 5+ years. My rational mind didn’t want it, but my other me, well, you get the idea.

He started to kiss me on the neck, and I discovered just how much I enjoyed it. He kissed my ear and the side of my head, and I turned my head for a moment to kiss him. I won’t lie to you—yes, I enjoyed it.

“You should remove or at least undo your bra; it would be a lot more comfortable.”

“It’s okay; they’re tiny anyway.”

“Oh, I’m sure they’re much more than what you show.” True, I had a loose, and too long, shirt.”

I shrugged, not really knowing what to say, and we kissed a bit more. I really didn’t want to miss the movie, so I turned my head back to the screen. Instead, he paused the movie “just for a moment,” he said, and he turned my body towards his so we could make out. The only problem is that now that I was facing him, his dick was directly on my pussy.

We kissed and made out, and I felt his hand move up my back, to reach my bra. Deftly, he undid it, like a pro, and my breasts suddenly felt a lot freer. True, wearing a bra was a bit restrictive, and my breasts thanked me for being freed. At the time, I didn’t think much of it; I was just kissing him, and I had a shirt on. Not having a bra felt great.

He stopped kissing me and turned me around, unpausing the movie. His right hand was still on my belly, except this time he was massaging me, and slowly moving up.

“What you are…”

“Shh,” he said. And as he said that, his hand started to touch the bottom of my breasts, and gosh, did it feel good. His other hand made its way under my body and soon they were both on my breasts, one on each. Somehow, I didn’t stop him, or say anything. I just moaned gently in pleasure.

He started massaging and cuddling them, gently, but soon his hands focused on my tits. He played with them gently, and it felt absolutely incredible. Gosh, I loved having someone play with my breasts—it was so different from when I did it, and so much better! He started biting my neck softly as he played with my tits in a small circle, and all of a sudden, out of nowhere, I had an orgasm.

It usually took me some time, a vibrator, and at least ten minutes, to orgasm. He had done it just by rubbing my breasts. I didn’t even know I could orgasm like that; I thought we needed clitoris or vaginal stimulation. The orgasm caught me completely by surprise, but it was an orgasm, making me shake in pleasure from toes to head, and moaning. I squirt when I orgasm, and this time was no different. I felt quite shy that it had happened, that I had orgasmed in his arms—he, a stranger. 

What would he think of me?

But it just felt so good. Soon, the surprise and shyness left and I was left with just pure relaxation and pleasure.

My body just completely relaxed. Not even a sigh of anxiety anymore. Somehow, as soon as I came, he stopped touching and caressing me; he stopped kissing me, and his hand went back to my belly.

Deep inside, I wanted so much more, but couldn’t say a word. That orgasm had awakened a dragon, if I may say so. I was soaked wet, my tits more sensitive than ever, and all I wanted was more kissing, hugging, and caressing.

But he suddenly seemed only interested in the movie. He stopped everything, and it frustrated me even more, and that frustration only made me hornier. I started thinking about my vibrator and how I would use and abuse it.

But towards the end of the movie, his hand once again started drifting—down this time. It reached my pussy, slid between my lips, and made its way directly to my clit. I remember thinking he was touching my juices and how gross he must have thought it was. I felt like a dirty girl.

Without a word, he started rubbing me gently. He had a slow pace and a soft touch, never varying his movement, always a small counter-clock circle, all around and over my clit. This soon drove me crazy with lust, and again, before I could even know what was happening, I orgasmed. Another spurt of liquid, but somehow, he didn’t move his hand away.

This, again, only served to whet my arousal, and make me feel even hornier. His dick was hard and big, on my ass, and I barely contained myself until the end of the movie. Then I turned to kiss him, and this time, his hard dick on me didn’t scare or weird me out.

“Should we go to bed?”

Ugh! Although the movie was over, I didn’t want to go to bed that early! He laughed at my confusion, then lifted me into his arms.

We kissed some more, and he removed my shirt. “You’re a virgin, aren’t you?” he said, and I stopped, shocked. How could he tell? He laughed a bit more and said, “Just the fact that you seem so out of touch with what I say, or do! It doesn’t matter. In fact, I think it’s great. I’ll go extra soft on you.”

We kissed again, and his shirt went off. My bare breasts touched his pecs and made me feel… oh, alive!

“The first time, anyway. Then I make no promises.”


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